Where He Needed to Be
by MilllsC9
Summary: After loosing Rose the Doctor is in pain. The TARDIS takes control and lands him where HE needs to be, not where he is needed. OFC one shot, no companions involved. Rating is probably not REALLY an M, but I wanted to be safe.


Where He Needed To Be

Disclaimer: I own no character from the Who-niverse; I only love them. A/N: This story evolved from a dream. I wanted to write something beautiful and vivid, poignant and a little magical. The story takes place between the 2nd and 3rd series.

So much pain. The Doctor could not keep those thoughts at bay. He had lost _another_. It was of some comfort, of course, knowing that Rose was alive and moving on with a normal life, but every loss in the Doctor's life weighed heavily on his ancient soul. This recent wrenching loss just brought it all up to the surface. Everyone he had ever loved flashed though his mind as he flicked the switches and spun the wheels that controlled the TARDIS.

Always moving. There was an irrepressible urge to always be moving. Traveling, anywhere…any time, in his faithful blue box helped suppress the unbearable loneliness that forever sought to consume him. It was getting harder to keep running away; the void in his hearts, the lump in his throat, the sting of tears found him all too quickly these days.

Such heavy-hearted introspection does not lend itself to pan-dimensional travel, and so the Doctor did not notice when the coordinates he had set suddenly changed. He was no longer headed to the planet of Persephone in the year 2517. The TARDIS, instead, was taking him to the one place that _he_ needed; not that needed him.

The TARDIS landed violent jolt, which brought The Doctor out of his lamentations. He glanced at the display.

"What!" he asked loudly. "Why am I on Earth?" He typed furiously for a few moments and turned a couple of dials. He needed to find out _where_ and _when_ he was.

"There must be a belt loose or something." He mused to himself. Briefly a year flashed onto the screen. "3034?" He hit a few more keys and brought up another screen. "That's odd." He squinted at the display through his thick-rimmed glasses. "There's nothing else," he shook his head in disbelief, "it's just blank." He hit the side of the monitor and pushed a few large buttons impatiently, but to no avail. Every monitor, every display, every dial, was now blank.

The mystery of where he had landed took his mind away from his grief. He grabbed his overcoat and swirled into with a flourish. A memory of Rose, laughing and rolling her eyes at him, appeared before he could stop it. The torrent of loss and heartache suddenly rushed back. With a sigh and a heavy heart he pushed open the door and stepped out into a place he never before seen or even heard of.

The TARDIS had set down exactly centre of what looked like the courtyard of a very wealthy university. One, though, that was entirely devoid of people. Shining columns and steps cut from white marble blazed against bright blue sky and the vibrant green of the grass under his feet. The only sound was the fountain in the middle of the square that bubbled and sprayed jubilantly in the bright sunlight; naively at odds with the darkness the Doctor brought with him. If he squinted over the roofs of the buildings he could see distant snowy mountaintops. He breathed deep; the air was cool and crisp even though the sun shone so brightly it made everything seem to glow. He suddenly had trouble focusing his eyes. He squeezed them shut as hard as he could and gave his head a bit of a shake.

When the Doctor opened his eyes there was a young woman sitting on the marble steps that rose in front of him. He looked around to see if there was anyone else, but she was alone. She was one of the loveliest creatures he had ever seen; and he had seen nearly all of them. She had long golden brown hair that was effortlessly piled into a loose bun with wisps that waved down around her kind face. Dark brown doe-eyes found his and she smiled without a trace of artifice. She stood. Her robe fluttered around her lithe frame even though there was no discernable breeze. The white diaphanous fabric caressed her shimmering bronzed skin as though it longed for her. Like a perfect piece of amber, she emanated life and warmth.

The Doctor cleared his throat and tried to focus on the impossibility of this situation. He began to speak, faltered, and finally stammered out; "Where am I? Where have I landed?"

The woman looked from the TARDIS back to him with a knowing smile. "This is the valley of Soulageons. Welcome." Her voice was gentle, but steeped in a wisdom that belied her age.

"Soulageons? Sou, sou, sou, laaaaaaaaaggeeeeeeeooooons." He auditioned each syllable, trying to spark some memory of this place. "Nope. Never heard of it." He put his hands on the small of his back and leaned far back on them. "Wonder why the TARDIS landed here?"

"Only those who truly need to can find this place. You _need_ to be here."

"I'm only here because my ship malfunctioned."

She looked at the TARDIS as though she could hear it speak and then centered her gaze back on the Doctor. "It brought you here because you needed to be healed. That's what we do here. In this valley we ease burdens, we alleviate pain… we make loss easier to bear."

"How?" The Doctor suddenly realized that he did indeed need whatever it was that this place held.

"You will see." She held out her hand to him. He stumbled forward lost in the mystique of her beauty. He reached out to take her hand. The instant they touched there was a flash. The already bright sunlight shone pure white for an instant and suddenly the entire square was filled with people. He gawked, looking wildly left and right; everyone was as gorgeous as the woman whose delicate hand he held. Everyone was dressed similarly in white robes, walking and laughing, chatting to each other. Occasionally someone would glance from the beautiful woman to the Doctor and smile sympathetically.

"Where did everyone come from?" Confusion tempered his voice and cocked his eyebrow.

The woman laughed. "They were always here. It is part of the magic of this place; the person that can best help you is presented to you above all others. When you took my hand we sealed our bond."

"Who are you?" he asked her incredulous to the amount of people who, apparently, had been walking around them and going about their business. He was so overwhelmed and it was so bright out, that he didn't notice the faint golden glow that had been wafting up from their hands "My name is Arabelle. And you are?"

"The Doctor." He swallowed hard. "Just the Doctor."

She nodded, being one of the few to accept his moniker without question. "Would you like a tour?" She dropped his hand to motion to the surrounding edifice, the unnoticed golden glow dissipated. "I get a sense you want to know about everything."

"Quite honestly I thought I knew most things already…I'd love a tour, though." He held out his arm to her; the Doctor is always a gentleman. "Allons-y!"

Arabelle rested her arm on his sleeve and guided him through the marble corridors. "A very long time ago, about a thousand years now, the ancient beings came to earth."

"What type of being? I've probably met them." He interjected.

"Well, the descriptions of them have been lost, but it was what they did that's important now."

He nodded, embarrassed for interrupting. "Well… yeah."

She smiled at him and quickly turned away. " The ancient beings came to Earth and searched the planet looking for all those who showed a spark of the Gift."

"The Gift?"

"The Gift is what we practice and learn here. It's what we do, how we heal. So all the people that showed promise were given a choice; to stay where they were or to come with the ancient beings and hone the Gift, pass it on, and one-day use it to help people. Some decided to stay and continue on living life, but many decided to go. The ancient beings brought them to this valley where they established and built this place. That was the first generation."

" You've been isolated in the mountains all this time?"

" Not at all. People in need always manage to find their way. Though you are the first to land here in a blue box."

" It's actually a time and relative dimension in space ship, TARDIS, for short." Pride in his voice.

Arabelle chuckled softly. "Well, you're the first to land in a TARDIS, then."

"I wouldn't doubt that." The Doctor muttered. Hollowness crept into his eyes.

"Over the generations the Gift has grown very potent. Everyone born here has the Gift now, though it is stronger in some than others. When we are of age we enter into service to practice and hone our Gift here"

"What exactly is this Gift, Arabelle?"

She considered for a moment. "Follow me." She let go of his arm and walked briskly to a small wooden door further along the corridor. She heaved it open and beckoned the Doctor. Arabelle shut the door behind them and they were suddenly plunged into cool darkness.

"What's going on? Where are we?" asked the Doctor both confused and giddy. He didn't like one of his senses suddenly being taken away and he wasn't entirely sure if he trusted any of this yet; but there was something intoxicating about this place, about this woman, and he couldn't leave.

"Hold out your hand." Her voice was gentle and warm in the dark. He reached out for where the voice came from. He did not hear her walking back from the door, as she was barefoot; he startled slightly when she placed her palm upon his. Her touch was soft and his hearts thrilled.

In the darkened room he could now see it. From where their hands touched a bright golden glowing dust spread and floated up, drifting on currents that he couldn't feel. The Doctor and Arabelle's pressed hands were a candle in the dark; their illuminated faces were cast in pleasant tones. The Doctor stared, mouth agape, at his hand. The quavering galaxy of glowing dust was hypnotic. A great sense of calm washed over him. He looked to Arabelle for some sort of answer. He was caught in the dark glassy pools of her eyes that reflected the swirling aura emanating from their hands.

"What is this?" His voice was choked and husky.

"Those with the Gift have the ability to ease pain with the power of touch."

"So all you have to do is hold someone's hand, it goes all gleamy-glowy and they feel better?"

" Well, in a sense." she removed her hand from his and the glowing faded quickly. The Doctor suddenly felt small and alone, his heartache swelled to take up that space.

"But there are far more effective ways. And there is a limit to how much you can effect someone only touching their hand." There was a hint of playful suggestion in her voice.

The Doctor was silent for what seemed like a long time. He was thankful that the room was darkened and Arabelle could not see him blush.

"First, however, you need to rest, and to have something to eat. I can show you to the guest quarters." She moved to the door and opened it letting the blazing sunlight in. The Doctor followed her in contemplative silence, his mind too busy trying to make sense of this too continue a conversation.

They wound through the building. The only sounds were the tapping of the Doctor's shoes on the hard marble floor and the soft rustling of Arabelle's robes. They had wandered far from the sunny courtyard and it was dim in this inner passage. They stopped next to another wooden door, one of many in this hallway.

"You can rest here." She spoke as she opened the chamber door. "I'll send someone with some food." She reached out to him as he craned his neck around the door to caress his face; she looked wistfully into his eyes with a sad smile. The Doctor caught just a glimpse of golden particles from the corner of his eye. Arabelle pulled back her hand as though it hurt and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"I must prepare myself, but you will find me when you are ready."

"What?" he exclaimed at this nonsensical answer. She had already turned and was walked silently away.

The Doctor shook his head; it was unusual for him to feel this out of his depth. He closed the door and surveyed the small room. It was marble, just as the rest of this building was, but small touches of comfort had been added. Rugs and tapestries covered the cold marble and softened the edges of the room. A small but plush bed in the corner and a small table and chair were the only furniture. The only spectacular thing about this room was the view from the window on the far wall. This room, and all the rooms on this side of the hallway the Doctor assumed, looked out onto the lush mountain valley. Every shade of green from new yellow-green shoots to the near black of conifers was represented. The valley plunged to a meadow dissected by a meandering river. Stone outcrops peaked through the dense forest that carpeted the craggy wall.

He could see other people dressed in flowing white robes, tiny from his vantage point. They strolled along the heavy bridge that spanned the valley just a little below where his room was. He saw more structures built into the massive trees that grew up the sides of the valley. They were wooden, so he hadn't noticed them at first. Steps were built up around the trunks of the huge trees that led up to platforms at various heights. He thought platforms looked like garden gazebos but a little larger.

There was a knock at the door. The Doctor pushed himself up from the windowsill he had been leaning on and opened the door.

"Yes?"

"I'm Amadour, Arabelle sent me with some food." The tall man raised a tray with some bread, cheese, and fruit on it as well as a metal pitcher of water. He smiled warmly, his light eyes sparkling and laughing.

"Sure, just on the table is fine." The Doctor stood back from the door. He turned and looked back out at the stunning view and scratched the back of his neck; he was in a reflective mood. He realized he had been rather rude to this man. "Where are my manners? I'm the Doctor."

He stuck out his hand towards Amadour. The blonde man returned the gesture taking the Doctor's hand and shaking vigorously. Light blue sparks trailed up in front of the Doctor's face.

"Blue?" He remarked.

Amadour flinched, a flicker of pain crossed his face but he quickly rallied and smiled warmly. "Arabelle didn't explain that aspect of the Gift, did she?" Amadour motioned the Doctor to sit at the table to eat. "I can explain if you like; she did mention you were more interested in this sort of thing than our normal patronage."

The Doctor pulled his chair up at the table and ripped the small loaf of bread in two. He offered half to Amadour. "Please, I've never heard of this place before, and you have no idea how unusual that is."

Amadour declined the bread as he sat down on the bed. He paused and gathered his thoughts. "Everyone here is born with the Gift."

"We _did_ cover that." The Doctor said as he popped a grape into his mouth.

"When we are children all of us display pure white in our Gift. As we come of age it begins to darken and take a definite colour."

"Is this colour due to some chemical, or is it hereditary? Oh… oh…I know! It's got to be a GX-14 implant!" His mouth could barely keep up with his mind... all the possibilities!

Amadour shook his head, bewildered. He hadn't understood most of what the Doctor had just said; his wide honest face didn't hide that fact. "No. It's really more a personality trait. The colour becomes brightest when we are at the height of our talent. Some, of course, are more powerful than others, and so have a brighter colour." He paused and clenched the hand that had shaken the Doctors'. He looked down trying to hide his true feelings. When he had touched the Doctor's hand he glimpsed the extent of the pain he harbored. Amadour knew that only the most powerful among them could help him. "I should let you rest; solitude and reflection are important before a healing." He stood and swiftly opened the door.

"Wait!" The Doctor yelled. "Where am I supposed to meet Arabelle, she didn't explain that either."

A knowing smile spread across Amadour's face "That's part of it. You'll find each other when you are ready."

A confused frown furrowed the Doctor's brow as he thanked Amadour and shut the door slowly. He went back to the table but changed his mind; he wasn't hungry anymore. He sat down on the bed and clutched his head.

"Solitude and reflection." The Doctor repeated. Those were precisely the things he avoided. He had had far too much solitude, hundreds of years worth. Never being able to fully love someone, knowing that one day, you would have to say goodbye to them. He lay back on the bed covering his eyes with the crook of his elbow. Before too long he fell into a fitful sleep.

_"Doctor!" Rose screamed, as she was pulled backward into the void. _

_ "Rose!" he cried, reaching for her. _

The Doctor bolted upright. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins making him sweat even though he shivered. He looked down at his shaking hands as his eyes blurred. A red-orange sunset shone through the window; the room was as hot and stuffy as a furnace. He couldn't be in here anymore. He wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands and took a few steadying breaths before he stepped out of his quarters and closed the door behind him.

He set off along the marble corridor, hands in pockets, mind lost in thought. Before long he had left the white marble behind and there was an uneven mountain path beneath his feet. The great expanse of the valley opened up before him. A gust of wind brought all the smells of the sun-warmed forest to his nose. The Doctor found his way to the bridge he had seen from his room. He strolled to the centre of the bridge. His eyes were glazed and he wasn't really seeing anything except the immense distance to the bottom. _I could just throw myself off this bridge and end it all. End the pain. End the loneliness. _He gripped the railing the rough wood was warm and he dug his nails into it.

Arabelle placed her hand on his arm. The Doctor hadn't heard her approach; her bare feet were always quiet. She was now dressed in a dark golden gown, tied closed with a sash. Her hair fell loosely down her back; let free to glisten in the intense light of the setting sun. His breath hitched with sorrow as he turned his head to look at her.

"Drink this." She handed him a tiny metal cup full of a clear liquid.

"What is it?"

"It's called _sentir_. It's something that will make you more open to the process. You must let the pain flow, let the memories free."

The Doctor swallowed the liquid. It was spicy and it burned fiercely; he could feel it searing his throat. Arabelle gently wiped a droplet of the powerful drink fro his lower lip; bringing the drop to her own lips. The Doctor was overcome with desire for her in a way he had not felt in a very long time. The glowing red-hot orb of the sun met the edge of the valley as the Doctor became lost in an entirely different set of thoughts. Arabelle said something to him, but he couldn't hear her clearly; her voice sounded like it was coming from very far away and it was distorted, no longer matching with the movement of her mouth. She began to walk away, to the other side of the bridge, smiling over her shoulder back at him. He pursued her. Fear suddenly seized him; he couldn't be alone.

Purple and blue light filled the valley like a rising tide. In the absence of the blazing orange setting sun the Doctor felt chilled but his core still burned with the _sentir _Arabelle had given him. He followed her down the stairs that left the bridge and connected to a forest path. Step after step. Step. Step. Step. He was caught in the rhythm of her silent footsteps, which became the rhythm of his beating hearts now pounding loudly in his ears. He hadn't noticed his vision changing; colours were more saturated and edges were sharper. Arabelle was now so far in front of him. _"Wait!"_ he called out, though he couldn't be sure if he had said it out loud or just in his head. His fear rose; a cold lump sat in his throat. The glowing golden woman was leaving him behind; if he ever wanted love again he needed her, needed to embrace her. His thoughts had become hazy and slow and the memories of Rose, of everyone he had ever loved, pressed on his consciousness; more tangible than they had ever been before. Tears began to stream from his eyes and obscured Arabelle even more. What was in that drink she had given him?

She reached the bottom of another staircase. This one, however, spiraled up around an absolutely massive tree. They were headed to the platforms he had seen from his room. Up they climbed, somehow he had caught up with Arabelle though he didn't remember seeing her get closer; she had been far away and in the next instant he was close enough behind her to run his fingers through the mane of her hair.

When they had reached the entrance of the platform she turned and faced him, reaching out her arms to embrace him. The Doctor stumbled forward and turned into doorway. He heard her voice, but still could not understand what she said. He took in the space he now found himself in. Pillars held up the roof leaving open spaces around the entire room above the half-wall coming up from the wooden platform floor. In the centre of the room was a large bed festooned with multi-coloured pillows. The Doctor was loosing track time; how long had he been standing in this room? How long had he been staring out at the valley?

The surrounding trees were alive with the whispers of new fallen night. In the Doctor's haze they seemed to be cooing and sighing to each other as they danced in the breeze. Soft scented air pushed into Arabelle's elevated quarters among the tall standing grove. Billowing white curtains surrounded the entire room. The Doctor felt the cool breeze on the back of his neck and it raised gooseflesh all over his body. That drink had not only heightened his painful memories, but all of his senses.

He heard Arabelle's voice again. Though he couldn't understand what she said he understood that she wanted him to turn around; he obeyed. As he turned painful images flickered before his eyes; faces of those he loved crying out to him. He closed his eyes hard against them but then remembered what Arabelle had said; "_let the pain flow, let the memories free_." After a few moments he opened his eyes again. Arabelle was directly in front of him, so close he could see the individual eyelashes framing her dark eyes. She grabbed his lapels and pushed his blue suit-jacket off. He was breathing heavily; partly due to the effects of the psychoactive drink, partly due to nerves. She arched her neck, turning her tanned face up towards his; inky shadows slid across the hollow of her throat.

Her lips met his in a tingling golden kiss. For an instant he was completely lost in the kiss; the heartbreak utterly wiped from his mind. She reached up and loosened his tie. The Doctor fiercely grabbed the tie and broke the kiss to pull it off. He was unsettled with the efficacy of the kiss; he caressed her face and kissed her again forcefully, drawing out that peace of mind. She pulled away from the Doctor's lips and began moving around the room pulling the curtains together giving them privacy.

"Doctor." Arabelle said from across the room, though it sounded to him as though she whispered in his ear. "Please disrobe, and lie back on the bed."

The Doctor complied, quickly removing his clothing. Even if he had wanted to he didn't know if he could have disobeyed. The _sentir_ was a powerful drink and it definitely made him more suggestible. He sat down on the bed and allowed his mind to drift to thoughts of Rose, of his wife and family, of the war, of his entire race being wiped out, of all the companions he had trusted…so long ago. His eyes stung with fresh tears.

He looked up when he felt Arabelle approach, upon seeing her his breath caught. She had removed her golden robe and stood before him completely unadorned. She wiped away a tear from his cheek and smiled sweetly. She placed both hands on the Doctor's shoulders and gently pushed him backward until he was lying on the bed and she on top of him. Glowing amber dust surrounded their bodies, lighting up the room. The wrenching memories were pushed to the back of the Doctor's mind once again. For this moment he was free. He was free to love unburdened by the losses of his past.

"It's been a very long time since…" The Doctor haltingly whispered to the golden woman lying on top of him.

Arabelle shook her head. "That doesn't matter." She kissed him again, lighting up their faces with a renewed golden swirl. The Doctor slid his hands from her hips across her back, reveling in her smooth warm skin. He twined his fingers in her wavy hair and breathed in her sweet scent. He took pleasure in her curves; running his fingers down the swell of her hip, watching the glowing trail his fingers left on her skin. Nothing is rushed when one makes love with a time-lord, for they have all the time in the world. Slowly Arabelle plied her Gift, winnowing the painful memories from the Doctor.

The Doctor awoke to the first rays of morning sun cresting the mountaintops; shimmering on the sheer curtains of Arabelle's quarters. His head ached dully from the _sentir_ but there was something else that was different. He felt lighter, happier. He relaxed listening to insects buzzing among the trees and smelling the scent of the forest laced with dew. He reached to his left, searching for Arabelle; he wanted to feel close to her again. The bed was empty. She was already gone. He sat up and noticed a tray left on the floor beside the bed. It had a small metal cup filled with a dark red liquid and a note. His clothes were folded next to it. The Doctor picked up the note;

_Drink this. It will help with the headache. –Arabelle_

He picked up the cup and hesitated, recalling the last time Arabelle had given him a cup of unknown liquid. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth and swallowed half of the cup. He made a face

"Oh, that's just horrible." He put down the cup again, not willing to finish it; the headache, he decided was not that bad. He dressed quickly and went to leave the platform; but a moment of sentimentality took him. He paused at the door and surveyed the room; remembering, affectionately, what had transpired there the night before. He smiled and clicked his teeth before turning and skipping lightly down the spiraling stairs he had struggled with the night before.

He reached the courtyard and spotted the TARDIS, right where he had left it. The Doctor was saddened that he hadn't seen Arabelle; he needed to thank her…for everything. As he reached the TARDIS he searched the courtyard for her but she was not there. He slowly geared the TARDIS up for flight, setting the original coordinates he had typed in the previous day. He poked his head out of the door again to look for her. The Doctor scanned the courtyard, again, but didn't see her. He stepped back and closed the door to the TARDIS, walking back to the control centre. He turned on his heel and walked right back to the door and stepped out, making a show of checking the outside of the ship.

Finally, after many checks and double-checks of things he never needed to check before, he caught a glimpse of golden brown hair gleaming in the sunlight. He loped towards her. Arabelle smiled at him and waited for him to reach her. She held her white robed arms wide and he scooped her up into a whirling embrace. She giggled, her laughter sounded like brilliant music.

"Thank-you, Arabelle." He whispered to her while he hugged her.

He released her; She reached up to caress his cheek one last time. "Goodbye, Doctor." A single tear fell from her beautiful eyes, there was so much more she was saying to him; that he was loved, that he was stronger than he had been before, that he would not need the valley of Soulageons again. The Doctor saw all of this in her face and felt it in her touch. At that moment she was everyone he had ever loved and lost; this time, however, he was able to say goodbye. They stared into each other's eyes for a few long moments before he turned and walked back to the TARDIS. He didn't look back to her; he didn't need to. He closed the door and inhaled deeply, it smelled like home. He spun the wheels and flipped the switches that controlled the TARDIS. The familiar rhythmic screeching sound meant he was taking off into the fabric of space and time, hurtling headlong toward some other adventure. The painful memories he had arrived with were not entirely gone, but now it was just easier to bear them.


End file.
